Reunion
by Lucretia B
Summary: A chryed fic based around their upcoming fingers crossed reunion
1. Chapter 1

**Reunion**

chapter 1

Tamwar hesitated. He knocked. He stepped back from the door and looked up at the window, willing there to be some sign of activity inside. Looking shiftily around, he raised his hand to knock again, and was taken aback when the door suddenly opened.

Christian looked wary, and slightly unkempt. 'Look, if you need help at the unit...' he began, but Tamwar cut him off. 'Can I come in?' he asked nervously, again glancing over his shoulder. 'Its not about the unit. Its about Syed'.

Christian sighed as Tam followed him up the stairs. There was very little, he felt, that Tamwar could possibly say to him that he didn't already know. That would change the way things were. Yet, as he always did, he found himself unable not to listen.

With a mug of tea in his hand, Tamwar looked curiously around the flat, wondering if there was any insight here into his brother's other life. The pictures, the sofa... the bed, which dominated the room, with its red silk sheets. He blushed, and caught Christian watching him, slightly amused. He coughed.

'I need to talk to you about Syed', Tamwar began. 'Please. I've tried to support him, tried to be there for him, but I don't actually know how to help him anymore. The last few months, he's been so manically happy, pretending everything's alright...'

Christian's smile faded. 'I head about the 'therapist', he said. His face was blank.

'I know, I know'... Tam struggled to find the right words. 'I know its ridiculous. But he asked for my support, told me I was the only one who was on his side. What could I say to him?'

'That it was wrong? That it wouldn't work? That he can't change who he really is, inside? That this man is clearly sick, deluded, taking advantage of him and profiting from his desperation?' Christian's voice broke, and he turned away, walked into the kitchen. He had been so angry with Syed when he'd heard. He was still angry. Angry with himself for caring. Angry that he couldn't change things, make them better, for Sy.

'I know. I do know', Tamwar said. 'And I think Syed does too, deep down. He's not stupid. But he's always been so serious, so devout. He can see how much he's hurt mum and dad, and he wants to fix it. But he can't fix this. And he won't listen to me...' Tam shook his head, increasingly aware that he was wasting his time. But who else could he go to? He shook his head in frustration.

'He won't listen to me either Tam', Christian insisted. 'I can't help him with this, If I've learned anything, I've learned that, finally. If he could have both, he would. But he can't. Its a choice. And he can't choose me. He won't choose me'.

'But he loves you Christian. He told me that he loves you. He told me that he can't not love you. And I know that you still love him. Don't you?'

Christian sighed, and didn't reply. But he knew the answer, and glancing at his face, he knew that Tamwar knew the answer. He poured himself a cup of tea, walked over to the sofa, and with a heavy heart, he sat down.


	2. Chapter 2

**Reunion**

chapter 2

Syed sat on the sofa, with his head in his hands. He could hear his mother moving about in the kitchen - she was preparing dinner for the family, and for Bushra and Nadim. Syed groaned, just thinking about it. It was so important to his mother that they present a united front, that they show Bushra that he was better, that he was 'cured'. It was so important that she should accept this, that he should be accepted, acceptable. He knew what the alternative had been. Cutting him out of the family photograph, cutting him out of their lives. And so he knew he had to make this work. But how he would stand the dinner, the condescension, and the condemnation, he didn't know.

And the trouble was, of course, he wasn't cured. Of course he wasn't cured. He had tried, he had tried so hard. He had prayed so hard. But these days, when he shut his eyes, to pray, or to sleep, all he saw was Christian's face, and the hurt in his eyes the last time they had met.

It had been last week. They had been catering a function at the vic. Syed tried to stay away from the pub as much as he could - the combination of dread, and hope, that he felt at the prospect of bumping into Christian was too much to take. But there had been no way out of this one. And of course his mother hadn't been able to help herself; hadn't been able to resist talking about the therapy, about Allen... when he met Christian's eyes his expression had been almost too much for Syed to bear. He was angry, yes, and Syed could cope with Christian's anger. But not the pain and regret that he saw beneath it. Christian had turned away quickly, found some excuse to go back into the bar. Syed had wanted to run after him, to tell him it was alright, that of course nothing could erase their love. But of course he didn't. He held out, he smiled, he carried trays of food and drink, and avoided Christian's gaze for the rest of the evening, just as Christian avoided his.

Because he had to be cured, didn't he? The doorbell rang, and Syed rose to his feet, reluctantly, ready to answer it. But his mother was already out of the kitchen, bustling to the doorway, welcoming Bushra, kissing Nadim, commenting on how well they looked. There was no room now for Zainab's sly digs at Bushra's weight - she was prepared to grovel her way back into respectable society, and Syed knew he would have to do the same.

Glancing out of the window Syed saw his younger brother dashing back across the square. Tamwar, he thought. At least there's someone I can rely on in all this. Syed heard him in the hallway, dodging Nadim's attentions, and he stifled the urge to giggle. Tam entered the living room, a slightly guilty look on his face.

'Tamwar?' Syed looked at him suspiciously. 'What have you been up to?'


	3. Chapter 3

He didn't find out what Tamwar had been up to, not that evening anyway. Bushra, Nadim and a nervous Zainab moved into the room, chattering, making small talk, involving Tamwar in the conversation, unsure how to deal with Syed. Masood had arrived home, doing his best to be charming, and to support his wife. The dinner that followed was one of the most uncomfortable experiences of Syed's life. His 'problem' and the 'cure' were studiously avoided, at least. And once Bushra and Nadim had made their excuses and left, Zainab sat down heavily at the table, indicating that the evening was not over yet.

'Well, that went well, don't you think?' she said with mock brightness.

Masood began to clear away the plates. Tamwar and Syed exchanged a glance, and said nothing.

Zainab cleared her throat. 'Syed... you've had several months of this 'therapy'...' she spat the word out with some distaste; the pride she had displayed in the treatment in public last week was gone. '... and you tell us... we hope... that it has helped, that you are more yourself.'

'I am', he replied, as hopefully as he could. Yes, I am, he thought, sighing internally. I'll always be myself. Nothing can change that.

'Bushra and Nadim coming here tonight, eating with us all, as a family... this means a lot. You know how much it means. But I think you know what you need to do now.' She looked at Syed expectantly.

Syed looked at Tamwar, genuinely puzzled. 'What, what do I need to do next?' Mas had arrived back in the room, and was standing in the doorway, looking guarded. Zainab looked to him for support.

'Amira', said Masood, firmly. 'You need to find Amira, and bring her back here. She is your wife, Syed.'

'... and there's no reason now for you not to be together', Zainab continued hurriedly. 'All this... it has been a blip, a distraction. Find Amira, bring her back here, and everything can continue as it should... you'll stay here, start a family... think of it, Syed...'

Syed looked from his mother to his father, genuinely shocked. He thought of the last time he'd seen Amira. Yes, she had begged him to stay with her, not to bring her into disgrace. But had she meant it? He remembered also how he'd pleaded with her, told her that surely she didn't want to live the rest of their lives like this. The awkwardness and the silence in their marriage had been intolerable, even at the beginning. She wasn't an idiot, she had surely known this too. Could it be any different? He knew, really, that it couldn't. And if she did agree? Wouldn't he be making things even worse? Condemning them both to a miserable, lonely life together?

'I can't...' he began strongly, but then faltered, looking up at his parents.

'He can't,' Tamwar interjected. 'He can't. It isn't fair, not on either of them. Not on us'.

'Syed, you have to', Zainab pressed. 'What did you imagine was the alternative? Live alone for the rest of your life, with this hanging over you? People always wondering, about you, about us? Bring your wife home. Rebuild your marriage. It's the only way'. She looked again to Masood.

Syed thought he saw doubt in his father's eyes, but Masood steeled himself, clearly committed to backing his wife up. 'Go and find her, Syed.' That was all he said. He left the room. Zainab shot both her sons a look, and then followed him.

'Syed...' Tamwar started, but his brother cut him short. 'Just don't, Tamwar. I don't know. I don't know what I'm going to do'. It had been a long evening, he was tired, and he had no defences left.

'Syed... you told me last week. You told me that you love him. Christian'. Syed flinched visibly as Tamwar said his name. 'And I know that you meant it. This whole thing is ridiculous, it always has been. You can't change who you are, or who you love. And you can't want to drag Amira back into this mess'. He was angry, but also desperate. Desperate for Syed not to make this mistake.

Syed sank down onto the sofa, with his head in his hands. 'I don't know what I'm going to do', he repeated. 'I don't know what I can do. I don't know what choice I have'.

Tamwar shook his head, and moved to leave the room, and to leave the house. 'You do', he insisted. 'You do have a choice. There has to be a choice'. And he slammed the door behind him.


End file.
